Finding Gilmore
by Priscilla934
Summary: 1963: Richard and Emily are both juniors in college who've never met each other even though they run in the same social circle. This is a story of how they met, how they grew to like each other, fight with each other and eventually fall in love with each other. Pre-Lorelai and Rory shenanigans. Multi-Character POVs
1. Chapter 1

**Hello people and fellow Gilmore Girls' lovers! **

**So this is a fic I've been working on for a very long while and am finally ready to share with all of you, now that summer if officially here. I don't know how long this will be, but I do plan to flesh out the characters as much as possible and give you guys an interesting and lovely story about how I think Richard and Emily first met. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gilmore Girls. This is simply an extension story of the lovely Richard and Emily and how they met in college.**

* * *

Chapter One:

_September 3, 1963_

_Dear Hopey,_

_Well, I've finally settled in at the house. It's been such a hectic day what with the new girls trying to find their houses and all the general excitement of a new year. Francie and I have been trying to figure out how to coordinate our things and who gets what side of our room, but I won that battle. I now have the right side of the room with the window. I know what you're thinking: Emily Elizabeth Hale, the first day of moving in should not be the day you argue with your roommate about who gets the better half of the room, but Francie will soon see that she'll value the left side much more than the right. I'm currently waiting for her to get back from the library with some pre-reading for an English class she will be taking in the fall, which I find horrid because classes don't start until next week, but such is the life of an English major. Thank goodness I've decided to continue on with my studies in History. It's still a good amount of reading, but not as much as Francie's course work. When she gets back we are going to 'Celia's' for dinner and then hopefully meeting the girls from Albright House for some late night coffee at the coffeehouse on campus. _

_Send our mother and father my love and give George my love as well. He seems like a lovely boy Hopey, but please be careful. I know he's a Princeton man and that he takes you for lovely strolls in that new Aston of his, but he is starting a new year of school with new people and I fear that this year will be a time of change for not only him but you as well. Don't be afraid for your upcoming senior year, but also make sure to focus heavily on your studies and, who knows, maybe you will be joining me at Smith next year._

_Your affectionate sister, Emily. _

I re-read my letter to my younger sister, Hope, and satisfied with the neatness and my grammatical correctness, I folded it up nicely and sealed it in a white envelope addressed to my home in Connecticut. Even though I've found myself excited for a new year at Smith College, I still feel a longing for home. Home consists of my parents, Anne and Edward Hale, and my sister, Hope Hale, who I've left back in my two-story home with a newly remodeled backyard. My parents have been fortunate enough to send me to a good school like Smith, but the downside will always be that I am a state away from my family. Not being able to see Hopey is excruciating at times, but you learn to deal with what you have. And, for now, what I have is sufficient enough. My home away from home is Talbot House and I am incredibly lucky to have my closest friend, Francie, as my roommate this year.

Francie and I met my freshman year at Smith and we have been inseparable ever since. We may bicker about our rooming arrangements, but we truly are the best of friends. As I mentioned in my letter to Hope, Francie has taken an abominable course load this semester and I fear that I won't be seeing much of her throughout the year. Lord only knows how she is able to keep up a long distance relationship with her Yale beau, Henry. Maybe it helps that the Yale campus is an hour away and thanks to Francie's father's work in the car industry, she usually finds her way up there once every few weeks in the newest and fashionable car her father can afford. Which, of course, is always a perk for me. Yale men are unusually superior to all others (well, most of them that is) and the campus is as lovely as ever no matter the season.

I get up from my desk and walk over to the window that also doubles as a door onto our tiny balcony overlooking the campus. Although my parents were very stubborn of my coming to Smith my freshman year, they finally relented when they realized I would not give up on the topic of my education. Coming to Smith was something of a new found independence for me and it was important that I fulfilled this dream when so many other women my age couldn't.

Looking out at the campus always fills me with a sense of calm and frenzy all at the same time. The leaves are starting to turn orange and red as the signs of autumn creep its way onto the landscape and, for the longest time, this passage from summer into fall reminded me of a fresh new start back home. At Smith it reminds me of the same thing, but it also comes with a tinge of panic because of the tough course load from professors. But I don't want to seem like I am complaining. I truly love it here, even if I am homesick for the first few weeks.

"Professor Browning is absolutely ridiculous. Who assigns all of Shakespeare's tragedies _before _classes even start! If I wasn't in my right mind I'd put something in his morning tea for his absurdities."

Francie has just walked in with a massive anthology of what I'm assuming is Shakespeare's Tragedies, and I wouldn't say I envy her in any way. From what I hear around campus, Professor Browning is probably the toughest professor when it comes to course work, grading, and general persona. The man could give Hitler a run for his money.

Francie sets down the daunting black hard cover anthology and exhales sharply, causing her red bangs to fly up. Even they look exhausted from prep work.

"You know Francie, you didn't have to take his class."

Francie's freckled nose crinkles in frustration as she tosses her black clutch on her bed. "Yes Em, I understand that perfectly, but if an English major wants to pursue a graduate education outside of Smith, preferably Harvard, said English major needs a stellar recommendation from Professor Browning. My future is literally and figuratively in his hands and it doesn't help that he already loathes me!" Francie puts her pale hands on her hips and shakes her head in frustration.

"Fran, he doesn't even _know _you. How in the world can he already hate you?"

Francie's green eyes glare at me as she grabs the anthology, and starts swinging it around in the air. "Have you _seen _this monstrous atrocity of a book?"

I smile sympathetically and walk over to my best friend who looks like she is on the verge of a mighty conniption fit. "Fran, he's a human being, not God."

"I beg to differ."

"I'm serious Fran."

"So am I."

I laugh and watch as she pulls her bright red hair out of the clutches of her high ponytail. She walks over to her wardrobe and takes out a black coat that soon covers her lovely blue floral dress.

"It started getting a tad bit chilly about a half hour ago, so you might want to grab something warm if we're still going to 'Celia's' for dinner."

I nod my head and grab my favorite brown coat and my black gloves that have been hanging over the frame of my bed since this morning when I got in. I top off my outfit with a black pillbox hat.

"Oh Emily how precious is that hat? Where did you get it?" Francie asks as we walk down the stairs.

"Hopey bought it for me over the summer. She insisted that I couldn't come to Massachusetts in last season's fashion so we made a day of it picking out a new wardrobe for this year."

"Well I absolutely approve of Hopey's fashion sense. How is she anyway?"

I walk out onto Talbot's porch and immediately feel the chill Francie was speaking of earlier. My, fall was making its appearance a little earlier than planned. We walk down the steps and head in the direction of 'Celia's', a little, yet quaint diner right outside the entrance of campus.

"Hopey is Hopey. She has a new beau named George and he's…well let's just say I'm not too fond of the Princeton boy, but I can't tell Hopey that because she's absolutely mad about him." I exhale and watch as my breath turns into a white puff signaling that it is going to be a cold September.

"Princeton really? Who would've thought. Is he nice at least?"

I cross my arms over my stomach to conserve my body heat on our short walk to the diner. "He's a lovely boy, George is, but I'm just not sure he's the right fit for Hopey. You know her, and I'm afraid that a boy may detract from her focusing on more important things."

Francie smiles this knowing grin of hers that I have come to hate throughout my years of knowing her. "I think you're being a tad bit overprotective Emily. Hopey is seventeen. She can afford to be a little distracted by a boy."

I roll my eyes, but thankfully Francie doesn't see. "_Can_ she afford it though? I mean she's doing so much already with the DAR and helping mother with all her charity fundraisers, and then there's school to worry about and I just…I don't know. Lord knows I didn't have a beau when I was her age."

Francie laughs at me and all I can do is stare at her with an irritated expression.

"Emily you act as if you're twenty years older than her. You two are only four years apart."

"Excuse me, five years in December!"

"Oh my mistake then. Five years," Francie corrects herself, but I can still hear the laughter in her voice.

"Don't mock me Francine Remington, or I won't share my new outfits with you this year."

Francie wrinkles her nose at me as if to say I'm being mean. "Fine I humbly apologize for defending Hopey's preference in boys."

I smile a satisfied grin and turn the final corner that will lead us to 'Celia's'.

"Oh thank goodness, I am starved. All that daunting Shakespeare has my stomach grumbling in hungry agony."

We step into the diner and are welcomed by a warm gust of air from inside. 'Celia's' has always been a safe haven for the many girls of Smith College. It's cozy, comfortable, and most of all it has the best food in all of Northern Massachusetts. We begin our walk to our regular booth near the front window and sit down on the amazingly relaxing seats.

"What are you getting?" Francie asks as she pursues the menu.

My menu goes untouched as I already know what I want.

I've been craving it all summer.

"I'm getting the Mud Burger and the Hot Chocolate Lava."

Francie looks up from her menu with a look of surprise and concern. "Emily, how do you eat the way you do and keep that petite figure of yours? I envy whatever natural talent you have in staying tiny."

I laugh as I look out the window. The sun is beginning to set on the horizon and it makes me feel a bit of nostalgia. "To be fair, if my mother found out that I ate like this on campus, she'd have me on a mandatory exercise regimen and dietary foods before you could say 'fatty calories'."

It's true that my mother is a controlling woman that feels the need to constantly tell me I need to improve on almost everything about myself, but this, as it turns out, is one of the many reasons I love being at Smith. Her strict social protocol makes my time here more than precious.

"I still can't believe you can eat like that though. Every year! You cease to amaze me Emily Hale."

"It's a gift."

"What's a gift?" Someone asks as they approach our table.

I look up and see a young man with extremely black and gelled back hair. He's smiling in Francie's direction, but she doesn't seem to notice him considering her head is concealed by the menu. His smile is very wide and white and I smile as well when I realize who it is.

"Arthur!" I say quite loudly, and it makes everyone in the diner look in my direction, including Francie who looks up from the menu. She smiles brightly at the handsome young man wearing a plaid red button down shirt and faded blue jeans.

"Emily, Francie you two look as radiant as ever. How were your summers?"

Francie sets down her menu and interlaces her slim pale fingers on top of the table. "Mine was absolutely perfect. I spent most of my time in California with Daddy. He's opening up a new shop over there and by God the people there are so beautiful Arthur, you would love it."

Arthur gives his signature "Francie Smile" which is solely reserved for his crush of three years. Everyone seems to know of Arthur's pining love for my best friend, except, of course, for my best friend.

"And you Emily? Your summer was well too I'm assuming?" Arthur asks me in an attempt to stop ogling Francie's pretty face.

I squirm in my seat and I try my hardest to keep a straight face. "Uh—mine was lovely Arthur thank you."

"So what are you girls having then? Would you like to hear the specials?" Arthur says as he pulls a small notepad from his back pocket.

Francie sits up straight and picks up her menu. "Actually Arthur, I see you got new menus! They look fantastic and I love the design on the front. " Only Francie would notice that 'Celia's' got new menus over the summer.

Arthur looks down at the floor and seems to be blushing. "Thanks uh—my dad actually let me design it and he apparently really liked them."

Francie smiles at the embarrassed boy and claps her hands. "That's great Art! You're such a talent."

Arthur's father owns 'Celia's' which was named after Arthur's mom who passed away right before the opening of the diner. He named it in honor of her.

"Well thank you darlin'. Now what can I get for you ladies? I know this one," Arthur points in my direction, "is extremely hungry."

I cross my arms and glare at him. "What are you a soothsayer?"

"Emily, I've been serving you for the last three years. I know a Hale appetite is not something to be reckoned with."

Francie laughs her irritatingly perfect laugh, while I roll my eyes at Arthur's embellishment.

"Har, har, har."

"It is true Em," Francie mumbles behind her hands as she tries to muffle her laughter.

"You two are terrible."

~O~O~O~

"Can you believe how talented Arthur is with those drawings? It's a shame his father won't let him go to art school. I mean last year he drew this lovely picture of his mom and I nearly cried because he captured her beauty so well. Do you remember the one?" For being a girl who was going steady with a Yalie, Francie seemed to be otherwise preoccupied with another boy.

"Yes Francie I remember. Goodness is it cold out here." I tighten my coat as we walk the path towards all the houses on Upper Elm, and pray to God the girls were prudent enough to heat the furnace in our house.

"I mean, you would think Howard would see that his son is incredibly gifted," Francie continues with a hint of frustration towards Arthur's dad.

"You know Arthur doesn't hold that kind of grudge. He's said it before that he's all his father has and he's okay with it."

Francie sighs and is silent for the rest of our walk home. I hear our small heels click on the path and I count the minutes until I can take them off. "Fran do you mind if we skip coffee with Albright? I know we told Catherine we'd meet her there, but we can call her when we get home and tell her we're too tired to go out."

Francie nods her head and unconsciously shakes her bangs out of her eyes. "Sure, to be honest I'm tired too and I don't think I could be civil enough with others when I'm this exhausted."

"Are you still worried about Browning's class? Please stop worrying, I know you'll do great. You're the smartest person I know."

Francie smiles at me, but I can still tell that she's wearing herself thin about this semester. "You know who would be a big help?"

Francie's green eyes look at me as if I am her only lifeline.

"Arthur."

Confusion washes over my best friends face as we walk up the steps to Talbot House. "Yeah. Remember last year when he went through that Shakespeare phase where all he would read were his poems and plays? He'd just lean on the counter on his breaks and read. I thought he was going to burn the books with the way he analyzed every line."

"Oh I do remember that! He would quote _Romeo &amp; Juliet _constantly!"

We've made it to our room and my heels have finally found a way off my feet. I think about what Francie said and recall that Arthur only seemed to reserve _Romeo__ &amp; Juliet _for Francie and I somehow ended up with all the _Hamlet _quotes.

"I'll ask him the next time we're at the diner," Francie says while she brushes her long red hair.

I follow her lead and grab my brush as well and sit at my vanity mirror. I look at my black shoulder length hair and wonder if I should grow it out, but then I realize I didn't have that kind of patience. My eyes roam my pale face and how oddly my skin contrasts with my dark brown eyes. My tiny nose makes my other facial features seem too big, but then again I really am fond of the way it turns up, almost like it's too high and mighty for simpletons.

"I wonder how Henry is settling in," I hear Francie say in a small voice.

"I'm sure he's doing fine Fran," I reply absentmindedly.

"Do you think he misses me?"

I smile into my mirror and hope it seems genuine. "I'm sure he misses you greatly."

"It's just—I hardly saw him over the summer what with me being in California and him being at that internship in New York. I just hope he's thinking of me, you know?"

I smile gently at my roommate who has turned to face me on her little bench. I stare at her through the mirror as I brush my hair softly and smile back. "He's a sweet boy Fran. And he's smart enough to know that what he has with you is special."

Francie looks down at the brush that is now resting on her lap. "Thanks Emily."

"You're welcome."

Francie gets up from her seat and walks out of our room most likely to use the bathroom.

I finish up at the vanity and am about to call Catherine on the phone, when someone knocks on my door.

"Come in."

Dawn Noble, a sophomore, peeks her head in and gives me a small grin. "Hey Emily. I forgot to tell you earlier when you got in, but Catherine called from Albright and said she needed to cancel on coffee. I hope you weren't getting ready to leave or anything."

I shake my head at the young girl as I get out of my seat. "Oh thank you for telling me. I was about to call Cat and cancel."

"Perfect! Well I guess I'll see you and Fran tomorrow then!"

"Good night Dawn."

Dawn closes my door silently and I walk over to the window so I can look out at the night sky. As I look at the lights of other houses beginning to turn down for the night, I remember my talk with Francie not even ten minutes past. I sigh as I watch the dimming lights, and I hope and pray that me lying to my best friend isn't something that will be held against me on Judgment Day.

~O~O~O~

_August 2, 1963 _

Although summer is meant to be warm and relaxing, this stale night is on the verge of choking out perfectly breathable air to my lungs. I knew I shouldn't have come to Henry DuGrey's party, but Mom was insistent that I do something fun with my summer, so I guess this was me, trying to have fun. But as I watch all the boys I've grown up with get blitzed out of their minds and all the girls I never really seemed to mesh well with in school flirt their way into a boy's arms, I kind of wish I was back home in my room finishing up _Anna Karenina _for my summer reading list. I can't seem to find a spot to sit for a while, so I make my way inside the house where someone has decided to play Chuck Berry on the record player. Some kids have found Henry's father's cigar stash, so the air is filled with cigar smoke and I find myself missing the outside. Finally, I find the stairs up to the rooms and hopefully I won't encounter anyone for the next few minutes. The hall is extremely long but I try all the doors to see if one will open. Thankfully, the fifth door I try is unlocked and I decide that this will be my hideout until the appropriate time to leave comes. The room is very small, but I can see that it is a little girl's room. A doll house sits on a dresser and the small bed is covered by pink pillows and a pink duvet. _I didn't know Henry had a little sister. _

As I walk around the room and look at all the pictures on the wall, I am suddenly aware of footsteps outside. _Oh please don't let it be two people looking for a private room. Please, please, please._

The door knob begins to turn and I hold my breath in anticipation.

Luckily, the person on the other side of the door is just Henry DuGrey.

A very sloshed Henry DuGrey I might add.

He smiles crookedly at me and stumbles into the room. He's abandoned his suit jacket altogether and his tie clack tie is slack around his neck. I notice the almost empty glass of what I am assuming is Mr. DuGrey's whiskey in his hands.

I respond to Henry's inebriated state by crossing my arms over my quaint black dress and cocking an eyebrow. "Attractive Henry. Thank goodness Francie isn't here to see you like this."

Henry's laugh is attractive even when drunk. I can see why Francie is so smitten with this blond golden boy.

"_M&amp;M_ what are you doing up here all by yourself? Didn't you notice the party downstairs?"

I always hated that nickname, but Henry's hoodlum friends coined it back in our freshman year of high school and unfortunately it stuck.

"I noticed it just fine Henry. Have you noticed how many drinks you've had?" Although Henry and I weren't the best of friends, he _was _still my closest friend's boyfriend, so by some degree I was obligated to feel some kind concern for the boy.

"Found Dad's key to cabinet. Lots…off…liquor. Stroooong. Don't know why Yale gave him that degree of his. Not too bright my pa." Henry thinks his statement is rather clever, so he begins to laugh. This time, his guffaws are rather irritating.

"Henry, you might want to slow down—"

"Slow down she says! I don—Oye!" Henry stumbles forward on his drunken legs which ultimately makes him lose his footing. He ends up smashing his face on the dresser holding the beautiful dollhouse, and I immediately decide to help the boy regain some control.

Although at this point he's pretty much ready to pass out. I sigh in frustration as I grab his arms and try to pull him up.

"Don't be ridiculous Henry. This circumstance is not funny, it's pathetic if you ask me."

Henry finally finds his sea legs and uses my shoulders for support. _Oh goodness you stink. If you puke on my dress you are paying for the cleaning._

"I—I'm no-no-noot ridiculous. Your face is ri-hehehe-diculous."

"Clever."

"I'm wery clever M&amp;M."

"You're very sloshed. Let's get you outside. Preferably on the lawn where your puke won't stain something expensive."

Henry begins to laugh very close to my ear and I suddenly feel very uncomfortable. He stops swaying, but his hands begin to move in a very inappropriate direction: down my back towards a place I'd rather not have anyone roam.

"Henry stop," I say very seriously.

"Stop what M&amp;M?" He has this disgustingly stupid grin on his face so I push him away roughly, but he finds a way to get a hold of my waist with his grimy hands.

"Henry I said stop."

"You wanna know what I think Em Em? I think you like me."

"Ugh Henry don't flatter yourself, you're really not that attractive."

"Ann I think that Fran is miles away, which me-means…" Henry pulls me into him tightly and as soon as I realize that things are going downhill very fast, I find a way to slap him extremely hard across the face.

My palm prickles with pain and I can hear Henry stumbling to the floor screaming a slew of expletives at me. I locate my clutch on the small bed and make a run for the door.

As I run down the stairs I stumble into a boy wearing round glasses who is loitering on the lowest step with a pretty blonde girl. His glasses fall off and I accidently crush them with my heel. I'm too frantic to stay and apologize because I know that if I do, Henry will probably try and find me to finish what he started. As the girl yells at me in an inebriated state for breaking her boyfriends glasses, I catch a quick glimpse at the young man whose glasses I've stepped on. He notices the tears that have gathered in my eyes and tries to reach out to me, but I turn my back and run out the front door. Luckily, home is only a few blocks away and I'd much rather jog there than catch a ride with my drunken peers. I feel my tears falling down my cheeks as I run and can't seem to make them stop. All I know is that this is one of the most horrible things that could happen tonight and I know that if I don't tell Francie as soon as she gets home, that Henry will find a way to make it sound like I made a pass at him.

And that poor boy with the glasses! I broke his glasses and well…I mean they weren't the most fashionable accessory in the world, but what if he can't see without them and what if Francie never forgives me and…

Oh why the hell did I go to that damn party in the first place?

No good could come of this.

None whatsoever.

~O~O~O~

"Emily are you alight?"

I jump up when I hear Francie's voice behind me.

"Em you seem a little spooked, are you alright?"

My eyes are wide as I look at my best friend who is now in her white nightgown. "I—I'm fine Francie. Just thinking."

Francie's pretty green eyes stare at me in concern and I really hope she can't read the guilt written all over my face. "You sure you don't want to talk?"

I shake my head and grab my toiletries bag and my nightgown from one of my dresser drawers. "No, I just—you caught me off guard is all. Don't worry about me."

"O-kay…if you're sure…"

"Of course I'm sure," I say in a high pitched tone that doesn't sound at all like me.

I walk quickly to the bathroom on the other end of the hall and lock myself in, hoping that the memories of that night would go away as fast as they could. Henry never did tell Francie what happened when she got back from California, mostly because he didn't remember anything that happened. But being around them…it was becoming too hard and, for once in my life, I didn't know what I was going to do.

* * *

**Alright people, hope you liked the first chapter! Like I said, I have been working on this story offline on the side for a long while, so I do have a strong idea of where I would like to take this story, so hopefully you will all bear with me as these characters find their way to each other. I'm personally very excited for what's in store for them! **

**-Priscilla  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello Friends!**

**Oh dear, how long has it been? **

**A very long while yes I know, and I apologize for the delay. This story was meant to be a summer project, until I found out that I had to take summer sessions at school and also work full time while I was at it. Suffice it to say, not the best writing conditions even though I promised a full-fledged story for you all to read. But believe me when I say, I have been so eager to write this story, not only for you all, but for me as well. I knew this project was going to take time, but now that I know I have time, I will do my best to update with a more regimented schedule. So bear with me, I still have a bit of stuff on my plate, but I am working towards trying to get a chapter a month out to you, and hopefully when the dust settles I can bump that up to two chapters a month. And I will also work on getting your questions answered if you do have any!**

**So without further ado, here is chapter two, and I really hope you like it, because some of my favorite OG's (original characters) get a little more of the limelight this time around!**

**Disclaimer: Again, I do not own Gilmore Girls, I'm just a devoted fan who is eager to continue the story even after years of being off the air.**

* * *

Chapter Two:

**Arthur's POV:**

It's one of those evenings I guess. The odd lulls that occur every once in a while.

There's nothing else to do in the diner except clean the counter for the millionth time on my shift, while I wait for closing time to inevitably come my way. I look out the window and watch as the sun sheds its light through the now naked trees, hoping that it will set quickly so the shift can end faster.  
But of course, there is a small upside to tonight's shift, and she just so happens to be sitting at the end of the bar, reading one of the thickest books I've ever seen in my life.  
Tonight her hair is down, and her bangs are constantly aggravating her because they are blocking her ability to read whatever that dreadful looking book is. To the side of her book is a notebook that she is hastily scribbling in, making it seem as if she'll miss massive amounts of information if she doesn't read and write at the same time. At this point, the spot on the counter I've been cleaning is severely polished, but for some reason I keep cleaning and staring at the beautiful girl at the end of my bar. Surely there are unfinished accounts to organize or ketchup bottles to be refilled, but none of that is nearly entertaining than watching Francine Remington have a subtle yet visible panic attack over her homework.

After a few minutes of tense silence on Francie's part, she finally gives up and viciously throws the pen on her notebook and slams the heinous book closed. "It's hopeless," she mumbles as she rubs her exhausted, yet beautiful green eyes.

I smile over at her sympathetically, and feel it's time to intervene with a piece of apple pie.

"What seems to be the trouble sweetheart," I ask as I slide over a slice of pie towards her and quickly top it off with a hefty amount of whipped cream.

Francie looks at the pie and begins to pick at it in sad defeat. "It would seem that I am illiterate when it comes to the works of Shakespeare, which means I am not going to pass the one class I need to do well in in order to even be considered for a graduate program. And the fact that I'm a woman doesn't help matters either, because of course Francine Remington can't continue her education alongside the male population because her destiny is to birth pretty red-haired children with a Yalie. At least that's what my future is going to look like all because I can't seem to understand an old English fart's plays!"

Francie's rant ends with her stuffing her face with a generous forkful of pie, and I wait for her to swallow before I respond.

"Frannie, you know those things aren't true right? You are one of the smartest people I know. Not one of the smartest _women_, but one of the smartest people. And you _can _do this, you just have to believe you can, and accept a bit of help when it's offered."

Francie 'hurrumphs' and continues massacring the pie. "And who would waste their time trying to help 'The Smith College Failure Soon to Be Dropout'?"

I smile at her as I offer her some extra napkins and a glass of milk. "I would."

Francie laughs lightly and re-opens her book. "Arthur, I can't make you do that. You have to run this diner and what about your own school work? I can't have you sacrificing your time when it could be spent doing more important things."

I reach for the book, close it, and spin it around so it's facing me. "_This _is important. 'The Complete Works of Shakespeare, Book One.'"

I look up at her and see her grimace at the title and lunge for another forkful of pie.

"Ambitious are we?"

Francie slumps in her stool and leans her head on her hand. "I told you, it's for class."

"Why didn't you say you were having trouble with Shakespeare? You know I went on a Shakespearean binge for the majority of this year."

Francie grimaces as she reaches for the book that I have taken hostage. "I didn't want to be a bother Art. Emily also suggested I ask you, but I know how busy you are."

I take the book away from her a second time and open it to the dog eared section that Francie has marked, and find that she has started with _Much Ado About Nothing. _

A favorite.

"I can help you with this," I say sternly.

"You don't have to Art..."

"Will you please stop being so humble and be a little selfish for once? I wantto help. And you're just going to have to accept that because I am not taking 'No' for an answer."

Francie gives me one of those quizzical stares that usually scares me because I could swear she was trying to analyze my soul when she stared that intently at me. It's when her nose begins to un-wrinkle when I know she has accepted the fact that I will not budge on this.

"Fine," She responds and shows me the area she is having trouble with. "I was doing fine for the first few lines in Act One, Scene One until I got to this part when Benedick is speaking to Don Pedro and Claudio about women, and I just can't seem to grasp what he means."

I read over the lines and remember reading these a few months ago at the beginning of summer. I smile at the pages because I remember finding this particular passage a funny yet sincere testament to Benedick's character throughout the play.

"Well I understand why you would be frustrated. This is quite a difficult passage, but I'll show you how we can de-construct it. We will do it line by line."

"But won't that take forever?"

I shake my head. "Not necessarily. If you are open to meticulous reading, then you're halfway done with your task. Allow yourself to be open to the text. That's the only way you'll be able to fully understand it. And soon you'll find that meticulousness will pay off in the grades that you receive. Trust me Frannie, it will be worth it."

Francie looks up from the book and gives me a big toothy grin. "What would I do without you Art?"

I look away from her perfect mouth and begin underlining the most difficult parts of the passage so we can tackle them one by one.

I did sincerely want to try and help Francie, but in doing so, I found that I put myself in some mighty fine trouble that entailed helping the beautiful red-head who was-it's safe to say-completely out of my league.

O~O~O~O

**Emily's POV:**

The beginning of September was without a doubt one of the coldest times in Northampton. I couldn't quite grasp how one made it through this weather alive, and yet here I was, walking the path to Albright House, hoping and praying that the girls in Albright had the decency to start the furnace. Albright House was one of my favorite places at Smith College. As much as I loved my house, the girls in Albright were more fun and fashionable then all the girls living on campus. It's probably why Cat fit in so well with them.

I could hear the click of my heels adopt a faster rhythm as I seemed to unconsciously pick up the pace towards the quaint light blue house with the cute porch swing out front. When I reached the door, I knocked on the white door and waited impatiently for someone to answer.

Through the door I could hear someone's heels coming down the wooden stairs and begin to unlock the door. The first thing I saw of the person was hair.

Bright blonde hair that continued for ages. The next thing I noticed was the bright white smile lined with bright red lips and her long lanky arms reaching for me in order to grip me in a gut-wrenching hug.

Catherine always gave hugs that could kill.

"Sweet Em! How are you?!"

Cat swung me back and forth in her arms and I found myself slowly losing the ability to breathe. "Cat, honey, I'm fine, but I won't be if you don't let me go."

Cat squealed loudly into my ear and did not let me go. "Sweet Em, I've missed you so much! But there is so much to tell! Come with me dear!" Cat let me go and replaced her grip on my hand as she pulled me up the stairs and into her room that was cluttered with clothes. She pat an empty patch on her bed while she sat on her coats that were scattered all over the place.

"So Em, how was your summer? Was it just fabulous? I heard you snatched yourself a beau, but that's just hearsay from the Constance twins and lord knows you can never trust those girls, so I couldn't be quite sure, and of course I would be most upset if you didn't tell me if you had a beau, considering I am one of your closest friends on this planet Earth and the twins are just...not."

I smiled at Cat and her fabulous ability to talk through run on sentences without taking a breath and take off the hat that I've been wearing. "No, no signs of any beau's in the near future. And I quite like it that way."

Cat rolled her eyes at me and proceeded to re-apply her red lipstick, which had become quite a bad habit of hers in the last few months. I was worried her lips would fall off if she continued this way.

"Sweet Em, you are one of the prettiest, sweetest dears I know. Why is it that you haven't gotten yourself someone who will treat you right?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Cat shrugged and set her lipstick in her skirt pocket. "Oh no one is worrying about my prospects here. But you Em, I know you. You act like a strict goody-goody, but deep down you want a boy who can make you blush and make your heart flutter. It really is quite sensational. I could write a romance novel out of it. Leave it to me Sweet Em, I will find you someone."

I gave Cat a stern glare. "Cat, you and I both know your taste in men is horrendous. Why don't we stop with all the meddling and try to get your grades up for this semester?"

Cat got up from the bed and walked over to her closet and whined, "Oooh Emily must you be so stern with me? I want you to have adventure. Lord knows you need some fun. I'm still quite hurt that you rejected my offer to go to Italy with me this summer."

"That's because I knew it would end in a marvelous catastrophe."

Cat 'tisked' from her closet as she tried on hat after hat. "You exaggerate Sweet Em. You would've had the most fun with me. It just so happens that I had a small rendezvous with a lovely fisherman from the Mediterranean coast. He was quite a darling. And a fabulous kisser."

Cat laughed at her frivolity, while I tried not to chastise her too severely.

Clearly, this method was a failure. "Cat I don't want to be the concerned mother in this situation, but are you joking?"

Cat shook her head causing her perfect blonde curls to sway and bounce. "No, his name was Luigi, and at first I thought 'What a ridiculous name, Luigi,' but then he showed me his pathetic fisherman's boat and I thought, 'Well isn't this just fine? Why not a perilous boating adventure in the Mediterranean with a young man named Luigi who doesn't speak a lick of English, but is fluent in the language of love...and fish of course. You should've seen me Em! I now know the different varieties of Mediterranean fish and that one should not drive a boat whilst tipsy. I came back a changed woman. With a slightly fishy smell, which was the only downside."

As one of Cat's closest friends, I always felt that some of Cat's antics warranted great amounts of worry and chastising. And one of the main reasons for this worry was because Cat came from very old money and an equally as old family name. Cat, of course, didn't seem to care for this, but, as her friend, someone had to make sure she wasn't...catering to the needs of others in...salacious ways. "Cat please tell me you didn't..."

Cat gave me a confused look and I tried to explain. "You know, that you didn't...with the fisherman..."  
Cat finally understood what I was trying to say and began to laugh hysterically. "Emily! Of course I didn't. What do you take me for dear? Luigi and I were merely kissing partners, no more. But now that you mention it..."  
Cat walked over to the bed, sat next to me and looked at me as if she had top secret information she wanted to share. "Now, I'm telling you this because you are one of my best friends, and I know you won't judge too severely about what I'm going to tell you, but I went to the doctor about three weeks ago and I was able to procure what most would call a few controversial items..."

I looked at Cat with a confused look on my face.

"You know Sweet Em, The Pill."

"The...the what?"

"The Pill, you haven't heard of it? It really is quite fascinating, people have been making such a storm about it, but it really is quite clever, and since I am technically an adult, I was able to get a prescription and viola!"

When I finally realized what Cat was saying, I shot up from the bed and put my hands to my mouth to prevent the screaming and inevitable condoning. I began to walk back and forth trying to gather my thoughts, but they were all so incredibly jumbled.

"You can't mean...the birth control pill can you? Please tell me that's not what you're referring to?"

'Nope that is exactly what I am referring to! Come now Em, you must know this will revolutionize the name of 'Woman' in society as we know it for the better!" She said as she jumped from the bed while clapping her petite pale hands from excitement.

"Are you insane, it will make everything worse! How did you even get a hold of a prescription? Surely your doctor would have been adverse to such actions."

"Well he wasn't, albeit he was a bit judgmental, but he didn't put up a fight."

"Catherine this is serious! Mother and I have had long conversations about this and how detrimental it is to a woman's reputation _especially _if that woman just so happens to be unmarried! What if people find out, and your name in our society is tarnished forever! Do you want that? People will point at you and say, 'There goes Catherine Pierce the...the _easy _one...'" I spoke that last part in a whisper for fear that the world and God could overhear this conversation.  
Cat only laughed at my worry and walked over to where I was standing. "It is just like you to worry so unnecessarily. Darling, my parents are hardly ever in my life, the only thing reminding me of their existence is their pretty money deposited in my account once every month. So I've learned quite quickly how to take care of myself. Despite my flippant demeanor and sometimes frivolous ways, I know how to be responsible about this, even though some would say I am not capable of such actions. It is completely safe, and the only people that know about this are my doctor and you. Now, I know I have the confidentiality of my doctor, and I know that you will keep this safe even from Francie. What people don't know, people don't see and therefore cannot judge. So believe me, I will be okay."  
I could feel how my eyebrows had furrowed high up on my forehead, but looking at Cat and how sincere she was being made me relax...but only slightly.  
Cat gave me a hopeful smile, and if she was any other person I would slap that smile right off her face.  
But she was Cat. My bosom friend who knew all my secrets, and it was only fair that I kept this one, no matter how much I disagreed with it.  
I raised my index finger as if I was about to conduct an orchestra with it and said, "You have to _swear _to me you will be careful. And just because I am saying this doesn't make it okay to me, just know that. But if you decide to act on this...you must promise me you will be safe and careful, and that you will come to me if something happens."  
Cat's smile widened as she pulled me in for another gut wrenching hug. "Thank you Sweet Em. For being such a worry wart, but I will be careful if that makes you feel better."

I hold Cat close and sigh. "I know there is nothing I can do to change your mind, so the only thing I _can _do is worry. But you're right, you have all the capabilities of being a responsible adult, and I trust you."

Cat let me go and began to jump up and down almost as if she needed to use the lavatory. "Now let's not waste time on silly conversations and go to Celia's. I am dying for Howard's famous Double Decker!"

Cat put on a grey overcoat that was on the bed and one of the hats she was trying on before she dropped such tremendous news on my conscience. She then grabbed my hand and I had no other choice but to follow her out the door and to the diner.

Francine's POV:  
Once I procured Arthur's help, things began to fall right into place. It was like Arthur could speak two languages and was then able to translate all my unknowns into a language I could finally understand. I couldn't help but wonder if Arthur had other-worldly powers and he was an angel sent from Shakespearean Heaven. We were now taking a break from deciphering _Much Ado About Nothing _and I felt like I finally had the hang of it. I had made it through three acts, which was a great feat, considering Arthur had to leave me to my own devices from time to time to serve customers throughout his shift.  
It was now getting dark outside, which meant Arthur was back at my end of the bar, trying to create a case for Benedick and his surly attitude towards love.  
"But he is such a horrid character Arthur! I don't know how you can stand him," I said as I took a sip of the coffee Arthur poured for me a few minutes ago.  
"He is nothorrid, he's just...careful is all."  
"Oh please! The man is so surly and pessimistic about love, it's a miracle he even ends up with Beatrice, which, by the way, I still don't believe. You must be lying about the ending."  
"I am an honest man Francie. You wanted to know the ending and I told you. Beatrice and Benedick end up getting married and there really is nothing you can do about it." I could hear laughter in Arthur's voice, and felt the overwhelming need to throw my pen at him.  
"Liar! How could such a vivacious and strong headed woman end up with such a silly and may I say irritating fellow? I won't believe it until I read it."  
Arthur smiled at me as he leaned against the counter. As he did so, I noticed the way his button down shirt hugged his arms and how there was visible muscle underneath his sleeves.  
"All I'm saying Fran, is that there is a lot of justification for the way Benedick acts in the play."  
Arthur's voice took me out of my daydreaming, and I looked down at my notebook in embarrassment while I gathered my thoughts. "I...I quite disagree with you on that front."  
Arthur began to laugh at me, which I had come to loathe because it made me feel foolish.  
"Don't mock me you goon!"  
Arthur raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, it's just that your nose always wrinkles when you get angry over people disagreeing with you is all." He reached his hand out and smoothed his knuckle down my nose and I couldn't help but find his playful antics rather unsettling.  
"See, all smooth, which means you can't be too cross about our differences in opinion," he said quietly as he leaned his elbows more on the counter, thus bringing his face a tad bit closer than was proper to my face.  
I swallowed involuntarily and tried to gain control over the part of my brain that was responsible for speech. "Well then, do tell, how do you justify Benedick's actions?"  
"It's simple really," Arthur replied in a quiet tone as he stared at me. "He is one of the only truly real characters in the play."  
"How so?"  
Arthur shrugged, pushed off the counter and grabbed a rag to clean it for the billionth time that night. "He's skeptical of everything, especially relationships. Look at the way he treats love and compare it with the way Claudio treats it. Claudio is a very 'in the moment' character when he sees Hero. He doesn't care to form a bond with her or even see if they have anything in common. Benedick on the other hand...he's more skeptical of love. He'd rather not love at all then risk his heart if said love just so happens to be a ruse or a failure, and I respect that I guess."

I look at Arthur who is intently focused on rubbing the counter right off. "But...how will you ever know if you're capable of love if you never try?"

"It's not about the capability to love. He doesn't deny the existence of love. He does, though, deny the method in which one gets to love. He's not one to jump in head-first and then find out his actions were all for nought because he was too hasty in his actions. Just look at the defamation of Hero in the wedding scene. That's what rushed love leads to."

I can't help but find Arthur's attitude a bit saddening. "I guess I see your point..."

"But remember Fran, interpretation is everything. One could have just as much justification to believe that Benedick is just a witty idiot who doesn't know how to shut the hell up."

I began to laugh and watched as Arthur's serious demeanor returned to a playful one again.

"What's so funny in here?"

I swiveled in my stool and faced the entrance of the diner and found Catherine and Emily standing there.

"Cat! Oh my goodness how are you?"

Cat yanked me into a tremendous hug and then proceeded to sit next to me. She gave Arthur a quick scan before she looked over at me again. I always seemed to forget that Cat and Arthur didn't get along. Cat always said that he was "too common" for her blood.

Emily took off her coat and sat on the seat next to Cat and gave a quick smile to Arthur. It looked like Emily had a lot on her mind, but before I could address anything, Cat began to laugh at something.

"Oh little Arthur, please tell me you're not still pining over our pretty little red-head? It's getting rather pathetic don't you think?"  
Oh dear, the match had begun early this time round. I tried to defuse the tension and gave Arthur a reassuring grin that said that I knew Cat was only being mean, and that there was no truth to her accusations. "Ignore Cat, Arthur. She's a naturally prickly person."  
I watched as Arthur set the rag down demurely on the counter, and how a grin began to slowly spread on his face. _Oh this wasn't good..._

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly and gave Cat a playful grin with a tint of malice. "Don't worry about me Fran. I would be bitter too if my Daddy had to buy me a new nose."

_Oh! Oh no!_

Emily almost spewed out her water from trying to hold in her laughter, and Arthur was getting a kick out of the shocked look on Cat's face.

Suddenly, I felt someone smack me on my arm, and saw that Cat was trying-but failing-to attack me with her clutch. "That was supposed to be a secret!"

"You told Emily too, I didn't think it was a big secret!"

Arthur continued to laugh while Cat touched her nose self-consciously. "Stop! It's a fairly new procedure and sooner rather than later _everyone _is going to have them! Oh stop laughing you git!" Cat tried to smack Arthur with her clutch but missed, due to Art's fast reflex. The goon kept laughing as Cat tried to get around the counter to make him stop making fun of her, but it was to no avail. Arthur was in hysterics and was now trying to find sanctuary in the storage room.

"Careful there sweetheart or that thing just might fall off!"

"You are such an ass!"

I couldn't help but join in the laughter, and internally I prayed that Cat got one good smack in.

* * *

**A/N: Alright GG friends! Hope you enjoyed today's chapter, and I promise promise that I am working hard to get chapter three out to you! I really do hope you all are enjoying some characters outside of the GG-verse, and I will try to incorporate as many GG characters as I can, but seeing as this took place way before any Gilmore Girls episodes, I hope you are all okay with the OGs I am introducing!  
**

**I was asked a little while back if I had anyone dream casted for the characters I have in the story thus far, and thankfully I do! So I wanted to share them with you, and I'll link them with IMDB profiles if you care to see:**

**Emily- young Marion Cotillard (there's a beautiful black and white photo series of her where she is the exact image of Emily Gilmore, I swear she is so beautiful): name/nm0182839/?ref_=nv_sr_1**

**Francine- Holland Roden: name/nm1555699/?ref_=nv_sr_2**

**Arthur- Sam Palladio: name/nm4112253/?ref_=nv_sr_2**

**Catherine- January Jones (with slightly longer blonde hair of course): name/nm0005064/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1**

**More to come: Different oufits that the girls and fellas wear, as well as Emily's "blue dress" Richard can't resist when he finally knows he's falling for our girl!**

** For the next chapter, we're going to get a little bit of Richard's POV, which I am super excited to share with you! And I'll have my dream cast for him and his side of the story along with the chapter! **

**See you all next time! **

**Love,**

**Priscilla **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello and welcome back to another installment of "Finding Gilmore"! Thanks to every one who has been keeping up with this story, and thanks to those who have followed it and reviewed. It means a lot that you are enjoying this just as much as I enjoy writing it! **

**I'm really excited to get this chapter out to out to you all because we're finally going to get some of Richard's POV and what's been going doing at Yale. Also, there were some questions I wanted to go ahead and answer here about previous chapter characters and what not. For the most part, several of Richard and Emily's friends are original characters of mine that I decided to add because, apart from the little facts here and there about young Richard and Emily in the show, we don't know much about who they hung around and what they were really like as college students. So I decided to just add in a cast of characters that they may have hung around, so I hope you guys like them as much as I do!**

**Anyway, on to the story, and I will see you all down below!**

* * *

Chapter Three:

_September 5__th__, 1963_

_Dear Richard, _

_ I am so glad to hear that you are all settled in and are prepping for what I'm sure will be another great year at Yale. I'm just sad that I won't be able to be there for the first three months with you. As you already know from the numerous letters I've sent you since I left, mother still has me gallivanting across Europe with her ever since the…divorce. She's doing better I think. Thank you so much for your concern in your last letter, Richard. It really means so much to me that you are still so willing to stick by my side even with this dreaded situation with my mother and father. It's not the best way I wanted to usher in our engagement—being apart for three months and having to relay messages between my warring parents because they refuse to speak to each other. _

_ I know though, that our engagement is the bright spot in all this terrible trouble my parents are causing for us. I miss you terribly every day and cannot wait to come home and see you once again. I know the last night I saw you wasn't ideal. Hopefully you were able to procure a new set of glasses. I really wish that girl hadn't broken them, they were my favorite pair on you. _

_ Mother and I will be settling in to our hotel in Milan soon, so make sure to send me recommendations of your favorite restaurants that we absolutely must visit, because I know how much you love this city. _

_ I'll keep this letter short, I'm writing you from a beautiful outdoor café and mother has had one too many glasses of champagne and is currently about to take the waiter home with her. _

_ I love you Richard, and I am counting down the days to when I finally get to come home. And to answer your question in your last letter, your mother's ring is still nice and snug on my left ring finger and I have every intention of keeping it that way._

_I will see you soon my love. _

_ Always yours,_

_ Pennilyn_

I look over the letter I last received from my fiancé, Pennilyn Lott, who had been whisked away by her brokenhearted mother exactly one month ago, and I can still feel the last kiss I gave her as I said goodbye to her at the airport. As much as it saddened me to see her go just two weeks after I proposed to her, I still believed that the absence would make our hearts grow fonder of each other. And even though I missed her every single day since she left, I was adamant about the fact that the separation would be good for us.

A challenge, I told her as I left a trail of soft kisses on her tear stained cheek as I dropped her and her mother off at the airport.

"A challenge indeed," She said as she picked up her carry on item and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight before walking away and leaving me for what would be the longest four months of our lives.

But, I told myself as I got into my car and drove away from the airport, that if there was one thing Gilmore's were experts at, it was taking on a challenge. So I was determined to make it through the last month of summer without her, as well as through the first three months of my junior year at Yale without her as well.

"Still wallowing over your long lost love Richard? May I remind you, she hasn't been shipped off to war?" The door to my room opens and I turn to see my roommate making his way to his cluttered desk with a newspaper in hand.

"Yes, I am aware that my fiancé is not going off to war Michael, but it still doesn't help that she is abroad while I'm stuck here with the likes of you."

Michael, my roommate since my freshman year at Yale, grabs his chest in jest, as if my words have cut him to the core.

"Oh Richard, your words hurt me so! How will I ever recover from your poisonous verbal darts," Michael exclaims in a passionate and broken hearted tone before he flings himself on to his messy bed.

Michael Seymour Campbell, ladies and gentlemen. You might mistake him for a Theatre Major, but in fact, he was a Business Economics major and my best friend here at Yale. Michael may not have been the greatest looking gentlemen in our building—a head of messy blonde hair, a bit of a jolly belly, and the palest skin that would burn at the smallest exposure to the sun—but what Michael lacked in looks he made up for in charm and charisma. Michael and I were very much a dynamic duo here at Yale ever since we first met, and we had no plans to change that, seeing as we always got along and were very partial to the same type of whiskey on Friday nights.

"Richard, this is the time to be free my friend! How long have you and Pennilyn been an item? Almost a year now? Now, I'm not saying to let yourself stray from the sacred road towards marriage with the lovely Pennilyn, but I am saying now is the time to loosen the reigns a little. Go out more! Meet some new people, preferably some beautiful young women, not for you of course, but for me, so that when Pennilyn comes back, I don't have to have awkward dinners with you and her in the dining halls."

"Michael, you do realize that those dinners are only awkward because you invite yourself to them, even though I have clearly stated multiple times that those are dinner dates with my fiancé."

Michael sits up, grabs the newspaper from his desk and begins to peruse the pages so that he doesn't have to answer me.

"Michael?"

My roommate sighs, sets the newspaper down, gets up from the bed and begins to pace across the room. His checkered shirt tail is sticking out in the back and I can see that he is about to embark on another one of his monologues about the most beautiful human in the world…according to him. Michael grabs his chair and scoots it over to where I'm seated and takes a seat with a very serious look on his face.

"Richard, you have to tell Pennilyn that I am in love with Lilian. Absolutely in love with her. I can't help but crash your dinner dates with Pennilyn, because it's the only time I get to hear about how Lilian is doing. They're best friends Richard! And Lilian, beautiful gorgeous Lilian, doesn't even know I exist!"

I turn my seat away from Michael and focus on the letter I was about to write back to Pennilyn before I accidentally opened the floodgates holding in all of Michael's love for Lilian Aster, Pennilyn's best friend and confidante, and also the only woman Michael has ever been so-called "in love" with.

"Richard don't ignore me like this! My heart is in absolute agony! Without her, I am nothing!"

"Jesus Christ Michael, calm down. She's just a pretty girl who comes down every other weekend to visit. And may I remind you, she does know you exist. Didn't she ask you to help her with her homework that one time?"

I can't see Michael's face, but I'm more than 100% sure that his eyes have glazed over with love and is thinking about the one time he spent a full hour and a half in Lilian Aster's presence because she was having trouble in one of her Math courses at college and asked him for his tutoring services. I'm not sure the poor girl learned anything of substance though. Michael had a tendency to stutter and fall over his words when he was in the presence of a pretty girl without any alcohol in his system.

"Ah yes, that was the day I knew Lilian Aster would be my future wife. Of course, I didn't make the greatest impression, but just wait until she sees me next time she comes down from college. I will sweep her off her feet."

I try to hold in the laughter that is slowly crawling up my throat, because if there was one thing I knew Michael wasn't capable of doing, it was expressing his feelings coherently towards Lilian, who by the way, was one of the sweetest people in the world and more than likely just felt bad that Michael had a stuttering problem…even though he didn't—he literally just _could not_ talk to Lilian.

"Mark my words, my friend. Lilian Aster will fall in love with me. Which is why I need you to make more friends with the ladies. I need a young woman on my arm so that the next time Lilian sees me, she'll realize that I am on the verge of being taken, and will have a grand epiphany that she does, in fact, love me."

"That is by far, the stupidest plan I have ever heard in my life Michael," I reply and continue with my letter.

"Well, what else would you expect from Jolly Mikey?" I am so engrossed in my conversation with Michael, I don't notice the door to our room had been open, and that someone is leaning in our doorway with a big cocky smirk on his face.

"Henry," I say, trying to mask the disdain in my voice, but doing a terrible job at it. "When did you get back?"

Henry DuGrey, perhaps one of the most irritating humans I had met during my time here at Yale, was definitely not someone I wanted to see in this building, because it meant that Michael and I would have to endure his presence for the rest of the year. And to be fair, Michael and I did try everything we could to get along with Henry. Our families ran in the same circles and we were always invited to his parties—the official and unofficial ones at that—but Henry was what I liked to call an old fashioned "playground bully". Ever since our freshman year, Henry always had it out for Michael. Maybe it was because of his weight or the fact that Michael could make friends more easily than Henry ever could, I don't know, but Henry always made sure to make Michael feel inferior every chance he got.

"Well Richy, if you must know, I just got back this morning," Henry replies to my not-so-sincere question. "Mom and Dad were nice enough to send me on a trip to New York just before school started so I could tour the town and see where I would be interning during Christmas vacation."

I nod my head and move towards my bed, so I can finish unpacking and hopefully signal towards Henry that our short conversation is over.

"So Mikey," Henry begins his normal tirade against my roommate, and I cringe at the irritating nickname Henry has given to Michael because everyone who knew Michael understood that he hated when people shortened his name. "How was the summer pal?"

"It was fine Henry," I can hear the curtness in Michael's voice and I know that if Henry isn't careful, Michael might blow a fuse.

"Nothing _big _to report? Nothing of _grand _importance maybe? No _chubby _news coming from the south side of town Jolly old Mikey?"

"Henry that's enough, you can leave now," I say as I grab Michael's shoulder just in time to try to keep him seated so he doesn't fly at Henry and give him a black eye.

Henry laughs in a mocking tone and saunters his way out of the room. "I'm just kidding with you Mikey, no need to get too worked up over nothing. Just wanted to see how you were doing is all! But I'll leave you and your wife alone. Don't want to cause too much trouble in paradise. Until next time boys!"

I can feel Michael shaking from anger at seeing Henry again, and when the door finally closes I let go of my roommate who I believe will not be jumping out of the chair to clock Henry DuGrey in the face anymore.

Michael scoffs as he gets out of his chair and walks to his closet door looking for what seems like a coat and hat. "That guy is the vilest human being I've ever met in my entire life. Gets his kicks out of trying to get a rise out of me and for what? Yeah, I know I'm big, but that doesn't change the fact that people like me more than they like him. In fact, the only reason people tolerate him is because he throws great parties and provides the best alcoholic brands from his dad's liquor cabinet. Without that, he'd be nothing." Michael finds a black coat and a hat to match and then takes out a cigarette case from his pant pocket.

"He's a bottom feeder Michael. We all know that to be the case. Where are you going?"

"I'm headed down to Iris' Pub to meet up with the twins and Percy. Want to join? We won't be out long, but pints are half price on Tuesdays."

"I'll come with you. I don't want to deal with Henry by myself if he decides to come back for another go."

Michael is about to step out of the room so he could light his cigarette. "Knowing him, he'd probably only care to come back if I was around so he could poke fun at me some more. It's a wonder that sweet girlfriend of his bothers to stick around with him. She's either just as bad as he is and we just don't know it, or she is too saintly to see how big of a skuzz he really is."

I grab my coat hanging from my desk chair and follow Michael out of the room and make sure to lock up before heading out to Iris', the local pub frequented by the majority of us students looking for cheap beer and a place to meet up, drink and talk.

Michael and I walk the path down to the pub in silence, the only thing passing between us is the soft sounding 'swoosh' of Michael's cigarette smoke. Smoking wasn't really a big habit of mine, but I did enjoy a cigar every now and again during social gatherings and parties. Michael on the other hand, was an avid smoker, mostly due to the stress of his courses as well as his family life back home.

The sun is just about to set and I know that the onslaught of fall courses is just around the corner, but being by my best friend's side, about to meet three of our other pals over a pint is just enough to keep my panic sedated. Going to Yale truly was a blessing and a curse at times. Although I loved every minute of my time here, the rigorous course material and the stress of always being at the top of the class was enough to cause a few migraines throughout the year. Michael had his way of coping of course, but unfortunately mine was thousands of miles away in Milan, enjoying the Italian wine and sun.

~O~O~O~

Iris' was filled to the brim tonight—as it was on most nights—and finding the twins and Percy was a bit tougher than I thought it would be. When we finally found them, things were as we had predicted on our walk over: Percy was chatting up a beautiful blonde at the booth, and the twins were drunkenly arguing over who the better-looking twin was—answer: it was definitely Marcus.

"Marcus, Finn, Percy. How are you boys doing tonight?" I yelled over the noise and found a stray stool to sit on while Michael awkwardly leaned against the small table we were all trying to occupy in the corner of the pub.

"Richard, tell my brother I am the better looking of us two. He still doesn't believe that I pull the most birds out of the two of us," Marcus says and picks up his pint to chug the last of his beer.

"Oye, Marcus, don't call ladies birds. It makes you sound more stupid than you already are," Percy says from the booth. He turns back to the unnamed blonde and grabs her hand and links his fingers through hers and gives her the Percy Travers smile that makes all the girls swoon. "Sorry darling, my mates over here don't know how to properly act around a respectable woman such as yourself."

"It seems like Percy hasn't skipped a beat since being away," I say to the twins who are bumming a cigarette from Michael's stash.

"It's that damn English accent of his. No one can resist that charm. You hear me darling?" Marcus shouts at Percy's blonde haired friend and waves his empty pint in the hopes of putting more emphasis on the words slurring out of his mouth. "It's just the accent talking, sweetie! Sooner rather than later, you're going to find out that our dear friend Percy here is a mere mortal just like everyone else in this pub!"

The blonde looks over at Marcus with a disgusted look on her face, mumbles something quick in Percy's ear, and gets up to walk back to what seems like a group of her friends standing next to the jukebox on the other side of the room.

Percy, not too happy with this turn of events, reaches out over the table and smacks Marcus over the head. "What the hell was that you idiot! I almost had that bird!"

Marcus, looking happy as a clam, steals his brother's pint and drinks. "Now, now Percy. What did we say about calling ladies birds?"

"Oh shut up you git," Percy says as he turns his attention towards us and away from the lous and drunk Marcus. "Anyway, Michael, Richard. Glad you could make it out. How were your summers?"

Percy Travers and the twins, Marcus and Finn Hampton, completed our close group of friends here at Yale. The twins hailed from New York, so it was rare to see them outside of school, and Percy was an international student from London, England.

"Ours were pleasant enough. How was yours," I reply back.

"Oh come on Gilmore, don't be shy about it! We all heard through the grapevine that you finally asked Penny for her hand in marriage" Marcus says and clinks his brother's pint—now his—with the empty cups scattered across the table.

"Marcus, do you always have to be so…loud," Finn says in an irritated tone from the corner of the booth.

The Hampton twins were as opposite as opposites could get. While Marcus was loud and prone to more alcoholic blackouts, Finn was more stoic and a man of few words.

"Oh…I'm sorry brother, I didn't realize we were in a library. I'll make sure to keep my noise levels at a minimum so I don't lose my reading privileges!"

"You always do this. You make a scene and then Allister comes out from behind the bar and kicks the _both of us _out because he can't tell us apart!"

The twins are back at it, which means all is well in the universe.

Percy rolls his eyes and looks at Michael and I. "So, boys, apart from dealing with these blokes all day, my summer went well. And Richard, I'm happy to hear that Pennilyn said yes. That is a big step for the both of you."

"Thanks Percy, that means a lot. It's just a bit of a drag seeing as she's been gone for the first month of our engagement, and she'll be gone for the next three months as well."

Percy flags over one of the workers and asks for a pitcher for the table. "Well it's just four months Richard. You two have been together for longer than that."

"That's what I keep telling him, Perc, but he won't listen. He's been wallowing over the last letter she sent to him over the summer," Michael says as he stamps out his third cigarette of the night in the ashtray at the table.

"I have not been wallowing!" I object.

"Richard, if I hadn't walked in when I had today, I'm pretty sure you would've been in tears over that letter."

Percy smiles and pours me a glass of beer before I have time to decline the offer. "That's true love Richard. Don't deny yourself that. Pennilyn is a beautiful girl, I'm sure she misses you just as much as you miss her."

I take a swig of my pint, and nod in affirmation, because it would be too much to even talk about why I was really spending so much time with that letter today.

~O~O~O~

After dropping off a very inebriated Marcus and a very sober Finn off at their rooms, we say goodbye to Percy and headed back home in the cold September night. The air outside is blowing through the trees and I'm calling it now: this was going to be one of the coldest winters here at Yale.

"The boys looked good. Apart from Marcus of course, he's always sloshed by the time we get to the pub,' Michael says between chattering teeth.

"Yea, they all looked the same to me. Percy is still the biggest flirt, Marcus is still the biggest mess and Finn is still the biggest cynic."

Michael laughs at my description of our three close friends. "And then there's us. We make a good group of idiots don't we?"

I smile and watch my breath become white wisps in front of me. "That we do."

There's a bit of silence before Michael attempts to say something more. "Is everything alright Richard? You've been…quieter as of late. I was just wondering if there was anything wrong that you wanted to talk about." I can hear the concern in Michael's voice and know that if I were to talk about it now, it would only bring up more questions than anything else and tonight, I just wanted to get back to our room and sleep.

"There's nothing wrong. I'm good, believe me."

Michael pats my back and thankfully that is the end of a conversation I was really not up to having ever.

~O~O~O~

_August 2__nd__, 1963_

The night was hot.

Unbelievably hot.

As much as I enjoyed nights out like this one with my girlfriend Pennilyn, this night in particular was one that made me regret wearing a suit and tie to another one of Henry DuGrey's parties. I was standing at the landing of the stairs, nursing a cup of beer while I waited for Pennilyn, who was currently using the ladies restroom. Michael had stopped by to say hello and was now rummaging through Mr. DuGrey's office, looking for the best cigars to smoke out in the backyard.

Nights like this were always a normal occurrence when Henry's parents were away on business, and luckily for me, Henry would soon be making his way to his dad's liquor cabinet and taking out the finest whiskey American money could buy.

"Sorry to keep you waiting darling. I went upstairs to find a bathroom and all the doors were locked, so I had to come back down and wait in the longest line known to man, but hopefully you didn't miss me too much." Pennilyn took my hands in hers and reached up on her tippy toes to give me a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Pennilyn Lott was perfect in every way one could ever hope for. She was beautiful, smart clever, and fortunately for her, my mother loved her probably more than I did.

We were a match made in heaven.

And yet…as I held her hands in mine and looked at her beautifully perfect white smile and deep blue eyes, I could feel something telling me that something was…missing.

Now, I didn't want to worry my beautiful girlfriend, because when it came down to it, we had been together for over a year now, and this feeling that I had was most likely temporary, but I could almost feel it in my gut that the way she used to feel to me when I first started going steady with her was not the way I felt now. I still loved her of course. There was no doubt about that for one second, but for some reason, I still felt like there was a hole somewhere in me that Pennilyn was supposed to occupy, and yet…she wasn't.

"Is everything alright Richard? You've gone a bit pale," Pennilyn reached out to grab my cheek, but before she could make contact with my face, I felt a gust of wind and a body crash in to me as it came barreling down the stairs. In the process of this person crashing in to me, my glasses fell off my face and I could hear them shatter underneath the weight of this person's shoe.

Everything was a tad bit blurry now that I couldn't see properly, but what I did see was a young woman in a black dress, and she was crying. Her black hair was in a bit of a disarray, and yet her curls framed her face in a beautiful hectic mess. I tried to reach out to her to see if she was alright, but she looked frantically up the stairs and then back to me and quickly turned away from us and ran through the crowd of people towards the front door.

"Hey! Come back! You broke his glasses! How dare you run away without even asking if you can pay for new ones! Richard are you alright?"

Before I could answer Pennilyn, I stepped off the staircase and tried to follow the girl who had been crying. I don't know what compelled me to do so, maybe it was because I wanted to see if she was alright and that she wasn't hurt, but something inside almost coaxed me to follow and see what had made her so upset.

I opened the front door that she had just ran out of not a few seconds before, and even though my eyesight was still blurry, I could see her running across the street to the left and away from view.

Odd.

I knew that in the grand scheme of things, I would probably never see this young woman ever again, but I hoped that she found her way home safely and that whatever she was crying about would get solved immediately.

As for the other thing that was beginning to warm my heart, I knew that the second she crashed in to me, it felt like lightning had struck, and her touch, although brief, was like breathing in air after being under water for too long.

I don't know who she was, or what she was doing here tonight, but the inclination to find out was making me more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"I'm so sorry Richard. I don't think there's any way to repair these," I heard Pennilyn's voice behind me and she grabbed my hand in hers and still…I felt nothing.

Not one single spark.

In an effort to put those thoughts far far away where I couldn't see or hear them, I grabbed Pennilyn by the shoulders and hugged her to me. I planted a kiss on the side of head and closed the door in front of us. "It's alright my love. I'll get new ones."

Pennilyn smiled up at me and gave me another sweet kiss on the cheek, and though I hated to admit it at the time, her kiss couldn't distract from the fact that I was still thinking about that girl in the black dress running away from whatever it was that made her believe she was not welcome in this house.

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it! The first of many Richard POVs! Hope you all don't mind, but Pennilyn is going to be playing a big role in the first few chapters featuring Richard, because let's face it, they were engaged and were in love for a time. **

**As for the way updates are going to go down: I really hope I can keep this updated at least once a month, but knowing me, that's probably not going to be the case. So bare with me as I try and carve this story out! I do promise that this story will get finished, because not only do you all want to know what happens, but I want to be able to make it happen as well!**

**Alright, that is it for now! Hope you enjoyed and I will see you all next time!**

**XX**

**Priscilla.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Welcome back everyone to another chapter! I know it's been awhile, but although this story seems like it's not going anywhere, I can promise you I am invested in finishing this story! I'm really excited to share with you another chapter installment, so happy reading! **

* * *

**Emily's POV: September 7****th****, 1963**

"Oh no, Francie."

"What do you mean Emily? It's darling!"

"Yes, darling for a woman of questionable morals perhaps, but not you."

"Oh hush, you're just scandalized over the hem line. I think it's beautiful. I'm taking it!"

Francie grabs the heinous looking deep blue dress that would make any woman at the D.A.R. faint from fright and fear that the world was finally and truly going to hell.

Today was part of the Final Weekend of Freedom for the girls at Smith, so Francie and I thought it was finally time to pick out a few much needed necessities for the oncoming winter that had decided to knock on our doors the minute we got back to school. I was simply looking for a new scarf and brown leather gloves so my fingers wouldn't freeze on the way to my classes, but it seemed as if Francie came into the small boutique in town in order to find herself questionable clothing items that would have her banned from campus.

"If you change your mind, we're the same size Emily. You could borrow it once your done being a patronizing ninny who forgot she's living in the 20th century. "

I roll my eyes and scoff while I browse Ana's Boutique's selection of winter scarves. There was one I was eyeing in the way back of the selection, but I didn't want to seem too desperate to get at it. "Trust me Fran. I won't be borrowing that dress any time soon. Or _ever_ for that matter."

Francie cocks her eyebrow at me and gives me a knowing smirk as she walks away from me towards the register. I finally find the scarf I'm looking for and follow her so we can get out of here before we buy everything in sight. The woman at the register starts speaking to Fran about what a great purchase she is making and that the dress was made by a French designer who was bound to take the United States by storm. Francie, being the natural social butterfly that she was, smiles and responds to the young girl who keeps going on and on about the French blue dress and I start to feel a tad bit irritated while I stand here waiting to be serviced. I keep it in though, because I know how much I hated watching my mother drill department store workers for not anticipating her picky and unrelenting needs.

Francie's purchase finally finishes and I walk up to the girl who gives me nothing but a nod, quick hello and rings up my purchases. Once I am done paying, I give her a quick smile and walk towards the exit where Francie is waiting for me.

"Where's Catherine this afternoon," Francie asks as we walk back to our house.

The cold air is starting to really do a number on my cold and delicate fingers so I quickly rummage through my shopping bag and find my much-needed gloves. "I believe she's getting her hair done in preparation for the first week of classes."

Francie lets out a small "huff" and I can sense her rolling her eyes even though I cannot see her actually doing the task. "Why is she prepping? It's not like there are any boys on campus to show off for."

I hide a small mischievous smile, but can't really hold in the comment that goes along with my smirk. "Well…there _are_ always the male professors."

Francie's green eyes go wide as she instinctively tightens her coat around herself. "Emily, that's so scandalous! How dare you say such a thing."

It's my turn to roll my eyes as I grab Francie's arm and link mine through hers. "Oh stop Francie. You and I both know that Catherine loves a good flirtation with a professor every semester."

"Yes but she shouldn't be exposing herself to such a scandal. Doesn't she remember Leslie Pepperton during our freshman year? She…she—," at the mention of Leslie Pepperton, Francie starts to look all around the street with a paranoid look in her eyes and lowers her voice to a whisper. "She was taken out of school by her parents during the Christmas holidays and she never came back. And then when we came back for the new semester, Professor Holiday had 'resigned.'"

I keep my eyes forward and listen to my heels click rhythmically on the concrete. The Leslie Pepperton Scandal of our freshman year was a story for the ages. I had met her before she was pulled from school—talked to her maybe once or twice in between classes—and although no one ever said what exactly happened, all the girls knew why Leslie never came back after the holiday vacation and why Professor Holiday was asked to resign his position as head professor of the History department at Smith. We were always privy to certain information around campus, but the key was to keep silent about it. And if we were silent about it, it meant we were none the wiser about the truth.

Almost as if it had never happened.

I take a deep breath and continue on my way towards our house and simply enjoy the scenery that we're privileged to experience here at Smith. Afternoons like this were what I secretly lived for while I was at school. I didn't want to sound like a pretentious transcendentalist writer who was immersed in their high and mighty and albeit, boring poetry, but here at Smith, the atmosphere all around made me truly cherish how well man and nature were equally balanced. I longed for this place when I was away, and when I was here, I was always dreading the day I had to leave. As cold as it was and as hectic as the days could be, this place had quickly become home to me. Leaving was synonymous with saying goodbye to an old friend you told all your secrets to and could enjoy a cup of tea with…but only for a little while.

As Francie and I walk back to our house arm in arm, I feel almost indebted to how beautiful fall looks on this canvas. It was romantic and tender, with the reds, browns and fading greens of the trees, and the potential of snow just around the corner. It was so close you could smell it in the air. But of course, those thoughts were just for me. They would make my mother laugh and my father would probably shrug and say he had no time for idle thoughts. And Hopey? She would most likely smile and say that there must be helium in the air because my head was floating towards the clouds. Letting people know what I thought only ever seemed to make my pleasant ponderings feel childish and irrelevant. So I learned over the years to keep those thoughts silent and to verbalize what was on my mind only if it truly mattered.

"You're awfully quiet Emily. Penny for your thoughts?"

I look over to my best friend and realize we've made it all the way to Celia's Diner without one word passing between us.

_Huh. Maybe I do have my head in the clouds. _

"It's nothing really. Just thinking about the course work for this semester. I'm considering whether or not I made the right choices and if it's perhaps too much to handle."

Francie squeezes my arm, gives me a small smile and stops walking. "Emily, you are going to do more than great! You're one of the top students in the history department and you are always so focused and one step ahead of every one. I wouldn't be surprised if you graduated with honors!"

I laugh and grab Francie by both her shoulders as a sign to stop prattling on about my so-called "academic excellence." "Francie, please stop! Your flattery is too much. But I think _you're _the one who will be graduating with the honors and a prestigious academic title to boot. Any graduate program would be lucky to have you."

"That sounds about right to me, Francie. You should listen to your best friend more often," we hear a male voice say from behind us. I didn't know what it was about him, but Arthur had a funny way of always showing up when we were outside of the Smith walls. Catherine and I always liked to call it the "Francie Radar." Always active and incredibly accurate as to the location of Francie at all times.

"Hello Arthur," Francie says with a small shiver in her voice due to the cold…or something else if I do say so myself.

"What are you ladies doing out? Better get back indoors soon, it looks as if the sun isn't doing much to keep us warm out here." Arthur was in his traditional blue jeans, white shirt tucked in and a black button up shirt that was currently blowing freely in the wind.

Very…common.

"We were just out shopping for some clothes for the new semester! I went a little overboard and didn't get much that would help me keep warm, but that's alright," Francie replies with a big smile on her face and her dimples perpetually plastered to the corners of her smile. Arthur smiles back and rakes a hand through his hair while he holds on to a shopping bag of his own in the other.

"It looks like you went on a bit of an excursion yourself Arthur. What do you have there," Francie says as she points towards his bag.

Arthur looks down and gives us a bashful smile. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just over at Sam's Art Supply and picked up a few new things. I'm trying to teach myself how to draw with charcoal, so I needed that and a few new sketchbooks."

Francie unlinks our arms and reaches over towards Arthur and squeezes his arm. "That's so great that you are so dedicated to learning so much more about what you can do with your gift. Maybe Emily and I could be in one of your new drawings! Doesn't that sound like fun Emily?"

Francie turns back around to me and I give her an apprehensive smile. "Of course. Well, Francie we should probably go. We don't want to be late for our house meeting. Arthur, have a good rest of the day."

Arthur nods and begins to walk towards the diner, but not before calling out to Francie saying, "I might take you up on that offer Fran! I'll see you two soon!"

Francie waves enthusiastically, then links her arm back in through mine as we begin to walk again. "Arthur's such a sweetheart. We must visit him more often. I think he's lonely when we aren't around."

"Why are you so interested in keeping that boy company? Is there something you've been meaning to tell me," I ask with an inquisitive tone.

Francie looks at me with a confused look on her face, and I simply give her a look that says she knows exactly what I am talking about.

Francie pulls her coat tight and begins to walk faster almost as if she is trying to run away from this avenue of conversation. "You know that's not how I think of him. And you and Catherine always implying that he is somehow in love with me is cruel and incredibly untrue."

"Or it's brutally honest and completely true. And you denying it only makes us talk about it more because it is so unbelievably obvious."

"I..I have a boyfriend. And I love him. He's what I want." Francie's voice goes quiet as she looks down at her dark blue heels.

"Oh we don't contest that whatsoever. But you being overly-friendly with Arthur, our diner _server_, may give him some ideas that shouldn't be passing through his mind."

A silence falls between us again as we finally make it back to the house and walk up the stairs to our room. As we enter, we take off our coats, hats, heels and gloves and go about our business, still enveloped in this odd silence that we've brought home with us. Francie takes out her gigantic Shakespeare anthology while I take out my planner and begin writing down what else I need to get done before the weekend is up. I didn't mean to put Fran in an awkward position concerning Arthur, but it was always hard for me to understand why she was so genuinely open to anyone who crossed paths with her. Where we grew up and _how_ we grew up, we were taught to always pick our friends from our own social pool. It sounds elitist I know, no one knew that better than I did, but it was always drilled into my head that socializing outside of this bubble—this sheltered and delicately constructed bubble—was a big, gigantic "No." I guess I was just in awe of Fran being able to see people as they were, complex human beings with lives that were just as meaningful as ours, no matter what kind of income they made or what side of the street they just so happened to grow up on.

That was something to admire, and sometimes I wish I had the same mindset. But my mother and father had always told us that we could never afford to think otherwise. We were safe in our bubble, even if at times I was dying to get out of it.

"Henry lied to me the last time we spoke," I hear Francie quietly say from her side of the room, thus pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What," I ask as I turn around in my desk chair.

Francie looks down at her hands in her lap as she sits on her bed with her anthology still closed beside her. "He lied to me the last time we spoke. I'm not stupid. I know he has his faults and I know the stress of his coursework at Yale and the pressure of his parents can make him lose his way a little, but the last time we spoke, he said his internship in New York ended at the end of July, but when I spoke to his mother, she said he had been back home since mid-July. It may not be anything big, maybe it was just a mistake but…" at this, Francie looks up, this time with her green eyes shimmering with what looks like potential tears. She turns and looks out the window and takes a deep breath in through her nose and out her mouth. "But who knows what really happened…maybe he wrote the date down wrong and simply forgot to tell me. It's nothing really. I just…I just hope that's the only thing he forgot to mention is all."

I get up out of my chair and join Francie next to her on the bed. I wrap my arms around her small waist and lay my head on her shoulders knowing very well that this was all I could really do to help. It wasn't up to me to say anything about what happened between Henry and I, because if I did, I knew Henry would eventually twist it and make it seem like I was the one who had done something wrong on the night that I had been trying so hard to forget.

So instead, I simply sat there in silence, holding Fran and knowing that the lies men told were the things our mothers had trained us to take in stride. We were there to support the men we loved.

Not to question their motives. And even at times their morals.

"I'm sure he just forgot," I say quietly into the air. The only response I receive is Fran's head nodding in the affirmative.

The only bright side to this was that soon, we would learn to forget as well.

O~O~O~O

**Richard's POV: **September 7th, 1963

I hear the door slam behind me and hear Michael's rapid breathing as he paces back and forth across our dorm room floor. I look up from my desk where I have been reading a book off of my fall reading list and notice Michael's hair is sticking up in vastly different directions.

"Did you try running the perimeter of the school again? Michael, you know running makes you queasy."

"No…I..she…she's…," Michael tries to explain, but all I get from him is a bunch of incoherent mumbo-jumbo.

"Michael, maybe you should sit down. You're looking pale."

Michael starts to rapidly shake his head no. "She's in town Richard! She's going to be at Iris' tonight! Tonight, Richard!"

I squint at my best friend in confusion and watch as he dashes to his closet and starts throwing out all types of dress shirts from his disheveled collection.

"Who? Who's in town," I ask as I get up and contemplate tying my roommate to his bed due to the fact that he might hurt himself.

"Lilian!" Michael desperately shouts from his closet. "I confirmed with Percy who confirmed with Gwen who confirmed that Lilian is, in fact, coming in to town for the night. They're going to be at Iris' in half an hour and I need to find the right damn shirt! She said last time I saw her that she liked the checkered pattern."

The floor becomes flooded with a bunch of Michael's clothes until I hear him let out a victory cry and pulls out a button down shirt that is incredibly wrinkly. He walks over to his bed and rummages underneath until he finds his iron. At this point he is mumbling under his breath and has deep-set crazy eyes as he pays meticulous attention to his dress shirt.

"Michael, you may want to calm down there. It's not as if she's going anywhere," I say as I put away my book, lean back against my desk and take a sip out of my coffee mug.

"She is the girl of my dreams Richard. And I'll be damned if someone gets to buy her a drink before I do!"

I smile in to my mug and shake my head as I watch Michael pay particular attention to ironing his shirt. Normally, I would try to talk more sense into him, but I remember what it was like courting Pennilyn in our first few months of knowing each other. Every time I knew I was going to have the chance to see her, I would find myself tugging at my suit jacket or playing with my glasses just to make sure she never saw me with crooked frames on my nose. The prospect of her being mine at the end of all our nervous drivel and extra caution to always look good when we saw each other at the beginning of our relationship was something we would always talk about in our letters. How our hearts would race at just the thought of being in each other's presence in just a few short hours and how we couldn't help but smile widely when we were finally with one another. After a year had gone by, our love for each other had lessened to a subtle hum rather than a loud persistent want, but I knew that Pennilyn still loved what we had. And soon, I would find my way back to being the man she fell in love with, and not this fractured mind that was contemplating taking back a ring that was promised to her for the rest of her life.

After I notice Michael is almost done with his shirt, I set my mug down and pick up my coat that's hanging in my own closet. As I put it on, Michael airs out his shirt and begins to button it up and tuck it in. I walk up to him with an inquisitive look on my face and point to his arm. "You missed a spot," I whisper as I head for the door.

Michael frantically turns towards his arm and begins to wipe at himself. I can't help but start laughing as I hold the door open and watch as my roommate loses his mind at the non-existent wrinkle in his shirt.

"Michael it's a joke," I yell from the door and motion for him to walk out with me. "Come on, get your damn coat on so we can get you to your girl."

O~O~O~O

For the amount of hours we spent at Iris', you'd think we practically lived at this pub. As we walk in, the crowd of people and smoke greets us at the door, but I know exactly where to find Percy and the twins. I guide an anxious Michael toward Percy's table, which for some odd reason, he always manages to acquire despite there always being a crowd of people in this place every single night. When we finally spot our friends, I can just feel Michael buzzing in his shoes because in front of us is Percy, Finn, Marcus and two girls in the booths. Finn and Marcus are at the next table talking to a cute pair of girls, while Lilian—tall, brunette and button nosed Lilian—is smiling at Percy and the girl he is currently having an engaged conversation with. The girl, Gwen Pickford, or Smiles to us, is frantically gesticulating in the air, while Percy is running his hand through his blonde hair.

"All I'm saying," Gwen says with excitement in her voice and gesturing to herself with both hands, "is that Plath deserves so much more credit for bringing about a true advancement in confessional poetry. Her way of being brutally honest about what she felt, what she was thinking and being a woman at that—" at this comment, Percy scoffs and folds his arms in front of him, his hair no longer perfectly in place, but sticking up everywhere due to the excessive amount of stress-pulling.

Gwen raises her index finger towards him and cocks her head to the side. "Don't scoff, Travers. You and I both know a woman, not in our lifetime, would ever be allowed to really leave her confessions and secrets all out there for the world to read, let alone be notably published for doing so!" Gwen stops talking, picks up her pint and takes a long gulp.

Percy only laughs as he sets one hand on the table and the other at the end of the booth, thus making a human cage around Gwen. "You make it sound as if your idol deserves a Nobel Peace Prize for being a complainer who only received her notoriety by masking her massive chip on her shoulder with frilly, big words that only made her sound pretentious and important! When in fact all she was was whiney child!"

Gwen sighs in exasperation and throws both her arms in the air. "Pretentious and important? Isn't that written in Latin on the Travers' family crest back in London or wherever it is you're from again?"

Lilian snorts into her glass, proceeds to set it down and looks up to find Michael and I approaching the table.

"So quick witted Smiles," Percy begins, "but tell me this—"

"Look!" Lilian yells, thus interrupting Percy's rebuttal, and points at us. "Michael and Richard are here!"

Percy and Gwen both turn to us and smile in our direction.

"Mates!" Percy yells and gives us each a hug. "Finally! Please Richard, tell this delusional bird that Sylvia Plath was nothing more than a professional whiner who shouldn't be praised for anything more than that!"

Gwen rolls her eyes, slides off the booth and gives Michael and me a warm hug. Her petite size causes her to stand on her tiptoes so she can properly reach us. "It's so good to see you both! You remember Lilian?" Gwen points to her companion who is also standing up to greet us as well.

At this, Michael's eyes widen with shock and excitement. "Of—of course! Lilian! So good to see you again! How was your summer?"

I lean in to Michael nonchalantly and whisper, "A little bit lower on the voice, it sounds as if you got hit in the nuggets."

Michael clears his throat and extends his hand towards Lilian. She smiles a bright white smile and reaches for Michael's hand and pulls him in for a sweet hug. "Michael, we are past cordial handshakes. Hugs are more my preference."

When Lilian let's go she reaches up for me next and does the same. As I embrace her, I can see Michael latching on to the table because he is on the verge of toppling over.

Once all the hellos are over a done with, the girls go back to their seats and Percy enters the other side of the booth and sits down. I watch as Michael begins fidgeting with his collar amidst the newly present awkward silence after everyone has taken their seats. Percy looks over to Michael and I sense he's finally catching on to the fact that Michael is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Percy and I exchange looks and mutually move our gaze towards Lilian. The nice thing about Percy was you never had to explain anything in depth about a certain situation. He always caught on quick.

Percy smirks over at me and I can see a twinkle in his eye as he sits up straighter in his seat. "Lilian you're awfully quiet, love. Tell us, how goes school so far? Smiles over here gets more and more radical despite your conservative scholastic surroundings. I hope you're not following her down the path towards hell."

Lilian giggles as she watches Gwen make a mean face at Percy's comments. "Gwen isn't radical, she's just strongly opinionated."

"Thank you, dear," Gwen replies as she picks up a handful of peanuts from the bowl in the middle of the table.

"And school is well. We just can't wait for Penny to get back from her European excursion though. I'm afraid she's going to be so terribly behind once she's back."

Gwen and Lilian had become good friends of ours thanks to my relationship with Pennilyn. In fact, Pennilyn and I met because Michael was a childhood friend with Gwen and Gwen and Pennilyn had met in their freshman classes. When Gwen would visit Michael on weekends, she began to bring Pennilyn more and more and somehow, we had all eventually become socially linked and this odd amalgamation of friendship quickly ensued. Lilian was the newest addition to our group, having met Pennilyn and Gwen during the middle of their Sophomore year, which simultaneously thrilled and terrified Michael when they first met. Lilian always had a way of lighting up any room with her smile. Michael never stood a chance, not after they first shook hands and she transfixed him with her perfect pearly whites and deep green eyes.

"She says she misses you all the time, Richard, just so you know," Lilian directs her comment to me about my fiancé who will be home in just a few short weeks.

I give her a small smile and lift my pint up. "Let us hope."

"And whatever happened to your grades in maths Lilian? You were struggling with those damn fractal geometry courses last I checked?" At this questioning from Percy, I can feel Michael straighten up in his chair. Everyone knew Michael was a genius when it came to numbers; it was a wonder he didn't double major in Math and Business Econ. The last time Lilian spoke of her problems in her math courses, Michael had chickened out and refused to ask her if she needed additional help. Both Percy and I had to push him into one tutoring lesson with her, and he couldn't muster up the courage to ask her if she wanted to make it a regular thing.

"You know who is incredible at maths my dear Lilian?" Percy was really laying it on thick. "He's practically a math genius you could say. A true mathematical prodigy in my humble opinion."

I sigh and nudge Percy in the ribs so he can get to the point.

Percy coughs and tightens his tie before continuing. "My mate Michael over here could help you with your math courses. I know he helped you that one time last year, but if you're still struggling, I know for certain he wouldn't be opposed to helping you once more. I'm positive he wouldn't leave a beautiful young lady such as yourself in perpetual distress, would you buddy?" Percy leans over the table and watches Michael's face go from red, to white, to a shade of green I've only ever seen once and that was after Michael got drunk his first time our Freshman year.

"Percy?" Gwen says from her seat. "Can I speak with you outside?" Her tone is pleasant, but we all knew too well that when Gwen took that tone, we were in serious trouble.

"I'm in the middle of a discussion with your friend here Smiles."

"I'm aware," Gwen smiles sweetly. "But there really is something urgent I would like to speak to you about. Outside."

Percy fixes her with an impatient glare that says something along the lines of 'make me.'

"Percy," Gwen says his name in a warning tone.

"Fine Smiles," Percy replies as he gets out of his seat. "But you better not try anything funny." He offers her his hand so she can lift herself out of the booth then quickly drops it to put his hands in his jacket pockets.

Lilian watches them walk out in a confused manner, then turns back to my sickly green best friend and me. "I—if Percy was right in his assertion that you are in fact a mathematical genius Michael, I would really love some help like last time. Whenever you can of course, I know how hectic your schedule must be."

Michael looks up in shocked surprise, and I can't help but nudge him hard like I did with Percy earlier. It was always so odd watching Michael court Lilian. Although everyone knew that there was something more between the two of them, Michael and Lilian were far too alike when it came to their shyness. They were both incredibly too nice about being a bother to each other, which is why this courtship was so agonizingly slow.

"If that's what you would like Lilian. I would be more than happy to help you."

Lilian smiles in his direction and that sparkle in her eyes re-appears, causing Michael to match it with his own reluctant smile.

I grab Percy's abandoned pint and take a large gulp as I watch Michael and Lilian get comfortable on their side of the booth talking about their schedules and when it would be best to meet for their first tutoring session.

I'm sure if Percy wasn't being yelled at by Smiles at this very moment for meddling, he and I would both be thinking the same thing.

_Finally_.

O~O~O~O

After our successful night out, we all headed back to our rooms. Percy was nursing the back of his head for the entire walk back to campus, saying that Smiles had a very good slap. Michael was in a shocked daze the entire walk, which left me alone with my own thoughts, which, as of late, I was starting to despise. These days, I wasn't very willing to be left alone with my own quandaries and ideas, because those were the mental avenues that were causing me so much trouble. It was why I wasn't in the biggest mood to talk about Penny tonight, and it was why I was finding myself becoming less social and talkative about how I was doing and how the wedding plans were going. You could say it started right after Pennilyn's parent's divorce announcement. Our social circle was never eager to talk about what happened behind closed doors, but once the doors crashed open with all the problems couples were having and how they had been sleeping in separate bedrooms for months, it made us all start evaluating ourselves more than we wanted to. My father had passed away many years ago, and it was common for my mother to always be traveling, so I never quite understood how other family dynamics worked in our world, but holding Pennilyn in my arms after our friends found out about the divorce was heartbreaking and also incredibly revealing.

This time of separation with Pennilyn was riddled with many different feelings and ideas about how realistic we were being about our own relationship and whether or not our marriage could actually work. And then to add on top of that, I couldn't stop thinking about our goodbye at the airport and how she silently cried in to my coat and how I squeezed her to me for a very long time. As she held onto me, I could feel her engagement ring pressing into my back, knowing that she held the most precious promise any man could ever give to a woman.

A promise of commitment. A promise of generosity, care, love and family.

And as I waved goodbye to her and watched as she blew me a final kiss in my direction, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach that hadn't gone away since that day.

Perhaps what we had would fail and crumble in the eyes of our friends and family. Perhaps I wasn't the man she needed by her side during this trying time.

And to make matters worse, as I walked to my parked car outside the airport, the worst possible thought crept to the forefront of my mind.

Perhaps the reason I had all these doubts was because_ I_ didn't want to be the man who stood by her side during this horrible time and for many years after this trial.

This was why I didn't want to be left alone with my thoughts. I wasn't about to ruin this story that was inevitably going to be written for Pennilyn and me. No matter what happened, or what I thought, Pennilyn and I were made for each other.

Everyone thought so.

And I would continue to remember that, even if my heart was telling me otherwise. A man who listened to his heart instead of his head was bound to make the biggest mistake of his life.

And Gilmore's never made mistakes.

* * *

**And that's it for now! Poor Richard has a bad case of "cold feet" huh? I really hope you all enjoyed and I cannot wait to be finished with the next chapter (yes, it is already in the works). Who knows what will happen? Maybe another interaction between Emily and Richard? Guess you'll just have to stick around to find out right? **

**Right! **

**I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day and I will see you when I see you! I can't promise when I will be back, but I am shooting for a shorter wait between chapters, so fingers crossed!**

**xoxo**

**Priscilla**


End file.
